


You open the old time novel, where the heart is gone, and the hero would be me

by TFALokiwriter



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies), Star Trek: The Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anomaly - Freeform, Death from Old Age, Death happens at the end, Feels, Happy Ending, M/M, McCoy looks like has a bad monday, Old Age, Sad, Spock left a part of him behind, USS Enterprise - Freeform, katra-skype attempt, spite, starships, yes that's what he looks like, you know that camera test picture for encounter at far point
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-07
Updated: 2017-12-07
Packaged: 2019-02-08 05:49:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12858102
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TFALokiwriter/pseuds/TFALokiwriter
Summary: Stardate 2389, McCoy's story is coming to a close.  One Vulcan's early departure changes his mind.





	You open the old time novel, where the heart is gone, and the hero would be me

McCoy was laid down on a biobed surrounded by the McCoy family of different ethnicity and species. Not everyone was a white humanoid in the room. His daughter's grandchildren were among the large crowd. Several of them were hybrids between human and a unique alien species. The sound to the equipment was in the background. The room was unfamiliar to him and somewhere he dreaded that he would end up. It wasn't the kind of place to die in, exactly. The room color was a shade of gold and blue contrasting against each other in a way resembling a Galaxy Glass color tone. The volume to the television in the background was down. Down to the point that he could not hear. McCoy and Spock had outlived their friends aboard the USS Enterprise. Kirk was the last to go. Spock grieved extensively for the past five years. He held onto the hand of his grandson who bore strong resemblance to him in his youth except for the green eyes and bad case of freckles. Lewis McCoy. He was seated down alongside the elder by the biobed. McCoy had lived for a long time. Watched A,B,C, and D go into space with his ~~married~~ _cough cough_ bonded best friends.

"I had a good run," McCoy said, fondly.

"Yes, you did, grandfather," Lewis said.

"Sure ya gonna keep this science track?" McCoy asked.

"I am not going to change tracks like last time," Lewis said.

"Good. . . good. . . if ya did, I will haunt ya," McCoy said. "Stick with it."

Lewis laughed.

"I will take that under advisement," Lewis said.

McCoy smiled turning his attention away.

**THE VESSEL CARRYING AMBASSADOR SPOCK  HAS GONE MISSING AND HAS BEEN DECLARED DEAD.  
**

McCoy paused, contemplating, as he felt around for the piece of the Vulcan's soul. There was no pain. Nothing of the sort. For years after the  Vulcan's death, whenever he was hurt, McCoy would feel it. A damn good doctor, he was back then, but he had to step aside and have Doctor M'Benga operating on the Vulcan. The pain had been distracting enough as it was. Kirk took pity in him on those nights and drunk with the doctor during surgery to keep his mind off. McCoy knew what it felt like for the Vulcan's soul to be on the edge of nothingness. Threatening to leave him and send him spiraling down with him. A piece of Spock's katra was a part of McCoy. Spock wasn't dead.  The voices around him became background noise. His eyes glared in the direction of the television seeing Spock's profile appear on the screen.

McCoy bolted up with renewed energy, "In a pigs eye, he is!"

"Grandfather!" Lewis said, in alarm as the aged admiral came to the side of the biobed.

McCoy propped himself up as his relatives  surrounded him in concern.

"Are you  all right?" came the taller member. 

McCoy was wobbly at first falling forward into the arms of his human/Andorian relative, Elizabeth. Elizabeth helped him stand on his own handing him a walking cane. McCoy stood upright staring back in the direction of the crowd in front of him full of puzzled looks on their faces.

"Listen," McCoy said. "dyin' is on hold." He took a tentative step forward feeling the slight pain in his knees with determined eyes. "I got a Vulcan to brin' back," he looked over toward the group. "Now, which one of ya got a car? I gotta pay a visit to Star Fleet HQ."

* * *

Time becomes longer when resting down.

McCoy would agree with it, 1701%.

Sometimes it came to his advantage.

He rested in his  seat with both hands on his lap. He focused on the part of Spock’s katra. To attempt a live katra chat, one that the doctor commonly used when he was bored just to argue with the Vulcan, had its physical disadvantages. It brought pain on McCoy’s side. Spock, on the other hand, was unharmed. It wasn’t fair but the price to speaking with him between thousands of light years was worth it. McCoy stood in the center of the darkness mentally. He saw a empty space before him. There was no one there standing where the Vulcan would be. There was no disk in front of him glowing blue. Memories highlighted by the blue colors around them.

_Spock.  . ._

McCoy reached out.

_Not ya, too._

McCoy felt along for the link gripping on to it.

_Too soon._

Was it selfish of him to think that?

_Spock._

McCoy flinched.

_Spock!_

McCoy tugged at the link only to bring it back to see that it was cut in half.

_SPOCK, I KNOW YA THERE! ANSWER ME!_

He fell down to his feet. He can sense the Vulcan was alive. The link was wrong. He could not be dead. Spock was too stubborn to die. Too Vulcan, too human, too diplomatic to go so soon. McCoy called out the Vulcan’s name, in hope, that he could get a reply. He heard his voice echo back at him. Instead of being upset, he was angry. There was darkness around him as he clutched onto the link. McCoy let go of the link. It was a link that Spock never really spoke about even after the human brought it up afterwards on the USS Enterprise A. McCoy slipped out of the katra chat. Wherever Spock was, the conversation could not be held between that vastness of distances. The car ride was still going. And McCoy was still angry at Spock.

* * *

“Energizing,”

McCoy was moved from one destination to the next. The familiar transporter room became solid through the screen of various blue shaded background. McCoy held onto his walking stick. His stomach churned feeling ready to puke. He stepped off in mid-transport onto the steps becoming solidified. The chief engineer looked up in bewilderment toward the solidified admiral. His boots were the first to become solid as the camera moved up. Behind him was Lewis, Elizabeth, and two other members of his family. The two senior officers were standing by the transporter console.

“Captain, First officer,” McCoy said, feeling around the collar of his uniform. “Nothing like the old fashioned transporter system to wake up  elder. ” the doctor had a pleasant smile bouncing on the tips of his toes leaning forward.

“A honor to meet you,”  Jolene said, shaking the doctors hand.

“Mine as well,” McCoy said, then turned his attention on the Tellarite. She shook her head then he lowered his hand linking it behind his back.

“Hello,” Annabelle said. “You look more alive than usual.”

“I am not bothered by Tellarite insults,” McCoy said. “I served alon’ side Telleraite nurses in my career.”

“Hm, really?” Annabelle asked.

“Uh huh,” McCoy said. “So don’t be worried about little old me.”

“That settles another problem,” Jolene said.

“Argumentative CMO?”  McCoy asked.

“Yes,” Jolene said.

“Love to meet them after  I get settled into my assigned quarters,” McCoy said, lightly bouncing.

“You and your family have the VIP section,”  Jolene said. McCoy unlinked his hands from behind his back. “Which is most of it.”

“Oh good,” McCoy rubbed his hands. “This is the refit model.”

McCoy looked around noticing the light gray shading in the room. It was more visible than the last time that he had been aboard her. The USS Enterprise A had that texture. They replaced the brightening for the dark intensity. It looked more appealing that way which was universally agreed by most of the crew. He visualized Scotty talking to Uhura alongside the doors. Uhura listening, carefully, to the Scotsman’s passionate complaints about the Enterprise’s engines. Maybe with a bag of lunch since Scott was fine tuning engineering when it went below his standards of being below efficiency. Which lead to missing meals. Uhura would be found in engineering keeping Scott company when off duty herself and more often than not,  she could be found visiting Sick Bay for her wife Christine Chapel. It was everything that he remembered. The captain and the first officer shared an aside glance.

“Been that way for a long time,” Jolene said. “We decided to brighten up the ship after I took command.”

“It’s better this way,” Annabelle said. 

“Several hundred people would disagree with ya on that,” McCoy said. His relatives stepped off the transporter padd feeling unwell. “And ya might want to inform the doctor of this ship that they are going to have some patients headed their way,” he briefly looked over in the direction of the small group then back in the direction of the star fleet officers. “Most of my relatives never been beamed off before.”

“Understood,” Jolene said. “Just how many family members do you have?”

“Approximately two hundred thirty,” McCoy said.

“Admiral,” Jolene said.

“Kiddin’,” McCoy said. “One hundred ninety.”

“One hundred ninety family members?”  Annabelle repeated.

“Uh huh,” McCoy said.

“Well, lucky we’re running a skeleton crew,” Jolene said. 

“Ya can run a constitution class with seven people,” McCoy said. “Remember that time we stole the Enterprise?”

“Very well,” Jolene said. “It’s a reason why there’s a rule added to court martial offense that a group of officers can’t steal a starship.” McCoy light heartedly laughed.

“I am goin’ to give myself a tour of the youn’ girl,” McCoy said.

“When you need to know where your quarters are, Miss Annabelle will guide you,” Jolene said.

“The only people who need guidance aboard ya ship is my family,” McCoy said. “I will talk to ya later. When I need to know where my quarters are.”

McCoy walked past the two rather speedily.

“Is it hard to believe that Star Fleet is letting him go alone into the anomaly?” Annabella asked.

“It’s hard to believe anything he does as an admiral,” Jolene said, as the sound of puking was heard from the transporter padd. “Oh.”

* * *

The USS Montgomery Scott flew into space headed in the general direction at top warp factor. It had been four hours since the unexpected life returned to McCoy. Some members of the McCoy clan were house in their individual quarters. Being assured that, "He will die after Spock gets back" was even more of a shock than  McCoy suddenly getting the ability to live again. Elizabeth watched the man walk around in his admiral outfit fiddling at the collar every once in awhile. He paced the length of the ship not bothering to take the turbo lift. Lewis wasn’t concerned but he was entirely concerned in dealing with this sheerly impossible event. Humans were not capable of getting a second wind on their death bed. Everyone agreed that it was almost as though he had been powered by spite.

“Doctor McCoy,” Elizabeth said.

McCoy stopped in the hallway, across from Klingon science officers.

“Yes?” McCoy turned his way toward her.

“I am confused. . . You should be dead,” Elizabeth said. “everyone is just in shock.”

McCoy snickered.

“Figured so,” McCoy said. He patted on the wall. “Scotty would be thrilled to bits if he knew a Constitution class was named after him.”

“I bet he would,” Elizabeth said. "What makes you so sure you'll find him?"

“He left a part of me in here," McCoy said. "I can find him easier than a bunch of star fleet time travel agents,” McCoy tapped on the side of his head. "Ya know. The wrath of khan, the search for Spock, and the voyage home. . .” he briefly smiled at a passing memory. “It feels like it were a passin' dream."

"Memories tend to become that way," Elizabeth said.

"A fantasy," McCoy said. "like one of those early 21st century romantic films. Where I spent my golden years."

"It was romantic the way you told it," Elizabeth said, reminding him.

“Those three months we spent there. . ." McCoy said, leaning against the wall with a small smile.

“They were memorable,” Elizabeth said.

“They were,” McCoy said. “I have to repay him because he got Jim back on his feet.” He nodded, as though certain, about it. “After Spock’s first death . . . ”

McCoy briefly closed his eyes painfully at the memory of Kirk manning the bridge alone. After Saavik had been assigned to a vessel around Genesis. She wasn’t there to see her adoptive father’s reaction at the empty chair. His hands lingering on the science station. The look in Kirk’s eyes read that he was done. There was no career left for him in space. Go home and return to his duties, alone, teaching cadets. Everyone was emotional. Every time Kirk looked at the Vulcan after fal-tor-pan was like a little of his soul coming back. Every wide smile at the Vulcan’s confused demeanor. Every time Spock looked at Kirk and McCoy, precisely.

“What do you mean by first death?” Elizabeth asked. “Do you mean that he has died many times?”

“Frankly, I served with them on the USS Enterprise A,“ McCoy said. “He died three times on my watch.”

“But. . . that’s . . how. . .” Elizabeth was at a loss for words.

“Vulcans are stubborn creatures. Don’t want to die. Stubborn on dyin’,” McCoy said, nostalgically. “Sarek and Amanda contacted me the third time and requested I stop giving them grief.” McCoy laughed, wiping off a tear from along side his eye.

“How?” Elizabeth said.

McCoy winked.

“I’m a miracle worker,” McCoy said. “Miracle workers don’t tell their secrets.”

“If you say so,” Elizabeth said.

“Excuse me,” McCoy said. “I have a sick bay to check out.”

McCoy turned away then resumed his path down the hall notably lacking a walking stick in his hand.

"Odd. ." Elizabeth raised an eyebrow noticing the aged admiral was walking fine. His recovery from the brink of death was remarkable. She only wondered how long it would last.

* * *

“Admiral, I am here to advice you take it easy,” Annabella said. 

McCoy went into the new, slightly less larger shuttle craft. 

“Shuttle’s have improved for the worse the last time I was in them,” McCoy noted. “I liked the old version.” he came to the front of the shuttle craft looking around curiously. He turned in the direction of the first officer to notice that she was in the way of the doors closing. He sighed, completely shifting toward her direction. 

“You must give me your word that you will not over exert yourself,” Annabella said. 

“I give ya my word,” McCoy said, crossing his two fingers behind his back with a polite smile. McCoy was in civilian attire consisting of a light blue buttoned up shirt that had sleeves at ended at the elbows, black vest, and matching complimenting dark gray pants.

“Can I expect you’ll keep it?” Annabella asked.

“I am not frightin’ to medical officers who violate their oath for no reason, sweetie,” McCoy said. “My word is my word,” he straightened his civvies. “Ya probably wonderin’ why I am goin’ in this instead of uniform.” He gestured toward the outfit.

“I am,” Annabella said.

“Wherever Spock is, whatever Star Fleet may be,” McCoy said. “I will blend in easily,” he looked around. “for this shuttle craft . . . I can’t say the same for it.” he smiled in return with a shrug.

“How are you going to explain that, admiral?” Annabella asked.

“I am going to say it’s a modified version,” McCoy winked. “I will be back in five minutes. Maybe.”

“That’s just hoping you do come back,” Annabella asked.

“Wait a week,” McCoy said. “See what happened. If I don’t come back from that deadline. . .”

“We will return your family to Earth,” Annabella said.

“Thank ya,” McCoy said. “they will need the downtime.” McCoy came over then checked the phasers. “Now hey,”  the tone came out as a alarm. “wait a minute,” he turned toward her direction. “I asked for the classic phaser.”

“I am sorry about that,” Annabella said. “We didn’t get told about that part.”

“My fault,” McCoy said, with a sigh. “Didn’t mention there’s a chance that I have to shoot my way in to get his green ass back here,” he closed the box with the phaser. “Guess I will have to get him out in some other unconventional means.”

“Not like he is a prisoner,” Annabella said. “I am pretty sure his ship is equipped with self defense.”

“First Officer,” McCoy said, turning toward Annabella. He looked younger at first glance in a surprising way. A mid-second transformation. As though the clock had gone backwards restoring him to his golden years. “Spock would have been back _by now_.”

Annabella nodded.

“Good luck,” Annabella said, walking off the back end of the shuttle craft.

The shuttle craft’s back end closed after the first officer left. He sat down into the pilots seat then looked down at the screen. He slipped on both halves to the glasses onto the bridge of his nose connected by a thick, long string looped around his ears. The shuttle craft flew out of the hangar. From the bridge, Jolene wished the doctor a silent good luck. He flew in toward the glowing mass of purple and pink. The power in the ship briefly went out then in a moment returned.  He traveled through the anomaly. He turned the scanners on collecting as much data as he could for his return. Three weeks on the other half of the anomaly? Spock could be in danger.  Spock was in danger. McCoy knew how easy it was for Spock to become threatened when somewhere that didn’t know him or had back up.

The vessel that had taken Spock through was the USS Yorktown. McCoy stopped, gasping, once his shuttle craft passed through. There was the Yorktown badly damaged floating in space surrounded by what seemed to be Bird of Prey’s. McCoy took out his old fashioned translator, a long bar, placing it onto the counter. There were likely officers still aboard the ship. It had over five hundred thirty officers, if this were the refit--which it was, McCoy decided upon further scanning. Spock was not gone. He was pretty sure of it. McCoy sensed the Vulcan. Thousands of light years away. McCoy sighed, resting his back against the seat and rubbed his forehead. Spock was, in fact, in danger.  A sense of validation came over the human. He slid his hands together then came toward the console. He sent the standard request hail. He waited, patiently, watching the bird of prey’s turning in his direction. 

McCoy lowered his glasses then unclipped them. He placed the dangling pair onto the collar of his buttoned shirt. Th screen came to life displaying a---McCoy groaned. It was the pointy head Klingons. Klingons who didn’t look Klingon. He was suddenly jerked by the flash of a Klingon coming on toward him with a bat'leth in a menacing manner. McCoy was making the injured crew members around him were getting to the escape shuttles. He remembered picking up a discarded tool and attempting to fight back to protect a paralyzed science officer. He remembered the fight that he shared with the Klingon. Fought to distract the Klingon. He remembered the war with the Klingons. He remembered his temporary assignment in space. The USS Tucker that had its nacelles destroyed. In 2256, the USS Cochrane, a ship that rescued him from his shuttle craft.  He remembered the invasion into the ship. The scar on his cheek that a bat’leth had given him including notable others were still in his memory. The places where his scars had been stung. The USS Discovery had swept in during the evacuation and fired immensely on the Klingons. The USS Cochrane was destroyed in that battle but the USS Discovery came out victorious. He looked up toward the Klingon yet not quite Klingon. McCoy turned on his translator.

“Admiral McCoy,” McCoy said. “I am looking for a very old Vulcan. Do ya have him?”

McCoy waited for a reply as the universal translator repeated after him in Klingon.

* * *

Captain Treadway watched the flock of Bird of Prey’s fly away as though making retreat. Treadway stood up and straightened his uniform looking on to see a small oncoming shuttle. It looked like a federation shuttle craft. The communications officer, T’Pal, turned from his station informing the captain that they were being hailed.

“On screen,” Treadway said.

McCoy appeared on the screen.

“Now, I heard what ya did to the Klingons,” McCoy said.

“We had to do it,” Treadway said.  McCoy narrowed his eyes.

“Treadway, the stardate is 2258,” McCoy said. “A couple years since the federation-Klingon war. We are in the age of exploration, a golden era, and ya decided to start a skirmish,” he placed his hands onto the console into the shape of a fist. “Ya to return through the anomaly and report back to Starbase One for violating the Temporal Prime Direcive. Ya know these models aren’t used anymore! Ya knew!” he shook his finger then leaned back  into the chai. “Have your first officer tow ya back. And when I back, I ought to hear your resignation.”

“Admiral McCoy,”  the first officer, White, began. “You are his superior officer.”

“That’s right,” McCoy said. “Ya relieved of duty as of this moment,” he turned his attention toward the standing security first officer. “Commander White.”

Commander White stood from his security station.

“Yes, admiral?” White asked.

“Work with the team and find other ways to get power on,” McCoy said.

“But there isn’t,” White said.

“There is. Trust me. Ya got more dilithium crystals than it looks,” McCoy said. “Check Scott’s biography. There’s a entry regarding the one time the Enterprise lost power and it seemed we had none.”

“If you say so,” White said, with a nod as Treadway looked down toward the ground.

McCoy shook his head looking over toward the former captain.

“You were such a promisin’ officer,  Blake,” McCoy said. “I am ashamed to have recommended ya to this ship. You’re not a soldier, no one is, you’re a explorer and peace seeker. I should taken the note on your file more seriously than I had. Ya handed over a elder. A VULCAN ELDER to KLINGONS!” there was silence on the bridge.  “Now . .  he is going to fall into the hands of  Captain Pike. Ya don’t hand over a elder so easily like that. He was supposed to negotiate a treaty between Romulans and Cardassians! Not go through a anomaly. What was on ya mind? Got caught in somethin’ ya don’t want shared.  That makes a captain dangerous. And you should be barred from ever being on the bridge. Discharged dishonorably.” McCoy shook his head then lowered it and lowly muttered, “McCoy out.”

* * *

Pike awoke that morning feeling refreshed.  Ensign Kirk had sent a report in regarding the studying  of shape-shifting sheep and the implications that these mutated animals brought for severely lacking of wool colonies. The implications were large. Some colonies didn’t have replicators as they required technicians and engineers very familiar to repairing the machines. It was co-authored by Lieutenant Spock. Pike had a proud expression. He had the strangest of feelings that something was going to happen today. He stepped into his sonic shower then came out to his laid uniform. The black and green outfit. He put on his two piece outfit lacking the delta symbol dotting it. It had been removed from the official uniform after numerous complaints. The uniform felt comfortable and freeing. It wasn’t like a outfit normally used in sports. He made his way into the living room where his first officer stood with her hands linked behind her back. Una was in her light green command uniform. Yellow used to be in command but had been put aside due to the way it made commanding officers stand out like gold among the scenery. Cool light green shirts. A far cry from the short term lengthed uniforms that were blue with gold, silver, and a orange-brown.

“Captain, we have a visitor,” Una said.

“Unexpected visitor?”  Pike asked.

“Yes,”  Una replied. “A admiral.”

“Which one?” Pike asked.

“He is really cranky,” Una said. “and wants to speak with Mr Spock.”

“Mr Spock,” Pike said. “Our Mr Spock?”

“Yes,” Una nodded.

"And where would our visitor be now?”  Pike asked.

“The conference room,” Una said.

Pike paused turning away from the woman rubbing his chin, contemplating. Pike placed a hand onto a statue laid on a counter. Something that Sarek had given him as a reward for saving Vulcan. It was a model that had been replicated in terms of design.  He looked down at the object in large consideration. He turned away from the object back in the first officer’s path.

“You have not called Mr Spock,” Pike said.

“Not yet,” Una said.

Pike paced back and forth.

“I want to be sure this man is asking  for the right person,” Pike said.  and since Kirk knows the lieutenant better than anyone, we’ll have him with the admiral,” Pike placed his hands on his waist. “He is as good as a officer as Mr Spock.”

“He has not been fully trained,” Una said. “the admiral won’t be happy.”

“I realize that,” Pike said. “We’re training him by giving him some experience talking to a admiral.”

“Experience boost,” Una said.

“Catching on, number one,” Pike said. “I have a report to finish and several others to read. I don't have the time for the admiral, unfortunately. Dismissed.”

* * *

McCoy was nervous. He claimed to be a recently gone missing admiral, Admiral Cartwright. Someone most captains never saw and refused to have their picture taken. Their activity was a little more than a mystery in and out of Star Fleet. He only knew Admiral Cartwright since they had a part in the Enterprises five year mission. Spock had discussed at length regarding the admiral’s historic place in history. There were no photographs of Cartwright and people barely remembered what the admiral looked like. He was in attire that was consistent with the era. The doors slid open revealing two officers. Una and Ensign Kirk---McCoy’s mind came to a screeching halt. He was frozen where he stood watching the two enter the conference room. Kirk had blue eyes rather than hazel. It was then that McCoy understood why Spock was unable to return. And anger replaced the understanding. He looked at the young man with confusion in his eyes. Green shirt? He didn’t understand.

“Admiral,”  Jim said.

“Hello, there, Lieutenant,” McCoy can see the eyes of his old friend on the young man. He didn’t have the distinctive Kirk curl. He watched him walk over toward a chair. The way he walked was different. The way he carried himself: confident, kind, and helpful was strikingly Kirk. It was the distinctive way he carried himself. McCoy cleared his throat. “Why is Mr Spock not here?”

“He is busy,” Una said.

“I am his assistant,” Jim said. “What you need to tell him can be said to me.”

“Are ya kiddin’ me?” McCoy asked, looking toward Una. McCoy rubbed his temple. “Look,” he placed his hands onto the table. “this is a problem that pertains to Mr Spock personally,” McCoy briefly closed his eyes feeling the tingling of pain.  He closed his eyes, fully, feeling like he had been shot in his side. Shot clear on through him, hot stinging pain. He saw a narrow hall that seemed to be sideways then straightened itself. McCoy propped himself up. Kirk came to the admiral’s side. “I am fine, damn it.”

“No, you’re not,” Jim said.

“Lieutenant,” McCoy said, looking over toward the man. “I have a friend who is in need of a doctor.”

“I know a doctor around here,” Jim said.

“Someone who knows how to specialize in Vulcan physiology,” McCoy said. “Katra-graft.”

McCoy saw from over the man’s shoulder was Spock using his wall as his support. McCoy saw his friend grip onto what was a seat then touch on a series of panels. The sound of doors closing behind him was soft, yet evident. Spock collapsed to into the chair covering his injury with disheveled hair. McCoy sat down. Spock’s hair was slightly longer. They were mirroring each other. The image faded. McCoy was brought unconscious. He was in a dark astral plane that sent him soaring.  He was being tugged. Further and further. Until he was transported into familiar scenery. It became apparent. McCoy knew what this memory was about. In fact, Spock had repeated gone to it over and over and over and over after Jim’s death. McCoy experienced shame and regret and guilt and sadness and despair. The pain was no longer there. This was Spock’s final moments. He was going over it. Standing there alone. The scene changed before the admiral. No longer was at a park but preparing to leave with Kirk cleaning the plates. Jim smiled back, beamingly, with a wash cloth. He had his sleeves rolled up.

_“Can I go with you for this mission?” Kirk asked._

_“Jim, you are allergic to them,” Spock said._

_“Still,” Kirk said. “I go with you on most of your diplomatic missions.”_

_“I do not wish to bring harm to you as my duties of Ambassador entails,” Spock said, coming to his side._

_“I am not fragile yet, Mr Spock,” Kirk  wiggled his index finger at the man._

_“I am aware of that, Ashaya,” Spock said. “I will return in two weeks.”_

_Kirk nodded._

_"Let's not forget this," Kirk said._

_Kirk came over toward him then stood on the tips of his toes clenching onto the Vulcan's shoulders where he brought him into a light kiss. Spock's hands traveled to the side of the human's face as he continued the kiss. McCoy felt like he was intruding on a special moment. Not a bad moment to relive. Over and over and over and over again. It was Spock who broke it off with a smile of his own. McCoy knew it, he knew the Vulcan had in fact been smiling. Which is where he got the laughter lines from. It was Jim's doing. All of it. A tearful smile grew on McCoy's face seeing them happy together. Spock's fingers trailed the side of the admiral feeling reluctant to leave.  
_

_"What was that for?" Spock inquired._

_"Good luck," Kirk said._

_"I don't need good luck when I have it by my side," Spock said. He picked up the duffle bag. "Until I see you again." He turned in the direction of the doors then made his path toward it._

_“I love you!” Kirk said, as the Vulcan made his way out through the doors._

McCoy stood there as the scene swept away.

“Ya never said I love ya back to him?” McCoy said. “Spock!” he came to the Vulcan’s side.  “That’s a terrible way of spending your final moments! Jim knew you loved him." he shook his head, unable to understand why Spock had chosen this. "Torturin' ya'self with this is somethin' Jim is not goin' to be happy about when he sees ya again."

Spock turned toward the human.

“You are invading my mind,” Spock said. “You do not belong here.”

“I belon’ in a multitude of places,” McCoy said. “We can agree  on that,” he gestured toward the Vulcan. “Get up and send a distress call,” Spock stepped forward. McCoy did not budge. “I am not leavin’ ya.”

“Then how are you here?” Spock asked.

“I really don’t know,” McCoy said. “Ya brought me here is the only answer,” McCoy stepped forward. “I said live long and prosper, not die before me!”

“That is selfish wanting to ensure my life just for your own satisfaction,” Spock said. “You do not have long.”

McCoy briefly closed his eyes then reopened them.

“It gives me emotional security,” McCoy said. “That you’re still around keeping the federation whole.”

Spock raised an eyebrow.

“Doctor, Ambassador Picard is fully capable of taking over where I have left off,” Spock explained. “he is more suited.”

McCoy shook his head.

“I can’t take losin’ ya, again,”  McCoy said, placing a hand on the elder’s shoulder. “It will kill me that I couldn’t save ya when I could."

“Dying by heart break,” Spock said. “I have heard of instances.”

“At my age, another heartbreak would be fatal,” McCoy held his hand out for the elder. “Don’t do this to me.”

“Leave,” Spock said. McCoy bravely held his hand out for the elder.

“Together or not at all,” McCoy said. “Ya once said that to me.”

“You were my crewmate,” Spock said. “I had a obligation to ensure your continued survival.”

“Ya are my friend,” McCoy said. “I know ya don’t want to be the last one alive. . . Just like me.” McCoy’s hand was laid out for the Vulcan. “But maybe ya do not have to spend the rest of your life alone."

Spock raised his head up raising his right eyebrow out of concern. McCoy’s hand was held out in a offer. McCoy nodded his head, as though certain about his decision. Spock looked toward the man. The man was young in his mind compared to himself. No more was the bags under his eyes, no more was the grayed hair, and no more was his disheveled fuzzy hair. Spock slowly reached his hand out for the human and held onto it.

* * *

“First we have a visitor, then we have Jim go in there, and then we have a distress call,” Pike said, lowering the padd to the desk. He whistled. “this is a eventful day.“

“Yes, captain,” Una said.

“Has the doctor awaken since then?” Pike asked. 

“He is resting,” Una said.

“And  Jim?”  Pike asked.

The scenery changed to sick bay.

“He hasn’t left the admiral’s side,” Una replied.

McCoy’s eyes slowly opened to see the blue eyed ensign. Jim had the familiar concerned look on his face. He remembered that look so well. From behind the man he saw a doctor in white uniform tending to a patient, Andorian, by the looks of it.  He saw the two light blue antanna's standing out from the forehead beside the doctor's shoulder. The Enterprise was busting with activity just as usual. The more things changed, the more they remained the same. He smiled back at the younger man.

“Hello. . . Ensign Kirk,” McCoy said. “Sorry, I thought ya were a Lieutenant.”

“It is all right,” Jim said, with a smile. “I had a grandparent who had memory problems sometimes.”

“Really?” McCoy said. “What brought ya into science?”

“Because science is interesting,”  Jim replied.

“It is,” McCoy said, with a nod. “I can agree with that.”

McCoy propped himself up with a wince placing a hand on the pseudo injury.

“Hey, hey,”  Jim said, softly. “the doctor in charge said you needed bed rest.”

McCoy snickered. 

“Now did he?” McCoy asked. “If I had bed rest all the time, nothin’ would get done.” he moved himself to the edge of the bed. “Ya remind me of a old friend I once had.”

“You knew my dad?” Jim asked.

“Knew him, I served with him,” McCoy said, with a nod.  It wasn’t a lie as long as the man had been part of the first mission in the five year mission in deep space. Dying the way he did leaving his wife widowed. He shared more similarities with George Kirk than he did with Kirk. McCoy had a fond smile on his face. “best officer in the fleet. Quite a shame that he died too soon.”

“Wish I knew him too,” Jim said.

“Ya didn’t get the chance to meet him?” McCoy asked, in dismay.

“Not a bit,” Jim said. “He is the reason I am still alive today. Me and eight hundred others.” It hit McCoy.

_The Kelvin._

McCoy’s eyes closed then reopened. This man was someone else. 

“I wish I knew him longer to tell ya more,” McCoy said, regretfully.

“Don’t be,” Jim said. “I heard all the stories about him in every possible way.”

McCoy noticed that he was not in a patient outfit. It relaxed the doctor. They had discovered no external wounds or internal wounds for that matter after taking him to sick bay. A place that looked more alien than anything. McCoy felt like a stranger than a visitor. And he didn’t like it a bit. McCoy struggled to stand on his feet feeling the wave of pain coming  from his side. Kirk caught the man with ease.

“I am fine,” McCoy said.

“Doctor,” Jim called.

“What is it?” the figure behind them turned, and there was his face. McCoy’s face. But younger and different. He had brown eyes. He had broad shoulders rather than a slender one. There was a striking resemblance between their faces, distinctive, yet different. The man raised a arched eyebrow back at the admiral who was speechless. So many things were different. McCoy stood there considering his word of choice. McCoy realized he was in a alternate universe. And his younger self was watching the idiots fall in love.

“Tell him he is not fine,” Jim said.

“He is fine,” Leonard turned back in the direction of the patient. Jim let go of the admiral. McCoy used the chair as his support.

“But Bones, he is not fine,” Jim said, gesturing toward the elder. McCoy looked up toward the younger counterpart. “he just about fell.”

“Just about fell--” Leonard turned away from his patient with his eyebrows knitted together. His bangs were different, swept from the left rather to the right, a boyish southern hair style.  “Just about how old are ya, Admiral Cartwright?”

“I was once your age a hundred years ago,” McCoy said. He was tempted to call him junior. But he restrained himself. He could not afford to let it slip that he was the aged version of himself. “Doctor.”

“A hundred thirty something?” Leonard asked.

“Mmmhhm, older than that,” McCoy said. Leonard observed the man

“You hardly look that old,” Leonard said.

“Got the best medicine runnin’ through my bones.” McCoy said, taking his hand off the chair.

“Oh, and what is that?” Leonard said.

“Good old fashioned will to live,” McCoy said.

“I am serious, Admiral, someone who is one hundred forty---” Leonard was cut off.

“Older than that,” McCoy grunted.

“One hundred fifty---” Leonard said.

“OLDER,” McCoy said.

“One hundred sixty,” Leonard said.

“Ah, no,” McCoy shook his head.

“One. . . hundred. . . seventy,” Leonard said, as Jim stood by his side looking at him with wide eyes.

“One hundred sixty-two,” McCoy said.

“Ya mean to tell me that ya were born in the year 2127 . . .” Leonard said.

“Uh huh,”  McCoy nodded.

Cartwright’s file didn’t have a specific date when they were born. And lied, notoriously, when they were born in the official files. Lying left and right on their age even to the doctor himself. He understood the officer’s desire to leave others baffled and their reactions were worth it. The silent sick bay staring at him, officers staring at him, patients staring at him, and nurses staring at him. Cartwright was an old man who looked younger than he was. Came with his ‘youthful’ personality. The initial disbelief faded from the youthful doctor's face. McCoy was feeling gleeful. More gleeful than he should seeing the reaction on his counterpart’s face. He linked his hands  behind his back then made his way out of sick bay going past the speechless sick bay. The sick bay reminded him of the refit yet more different. He used the wall as his support looking on to see a different hallway. The halls that he hadn’t paid attention upon his initial arrival. They were more curved and flat. He straightened himself up then made his way down. He passed by several yeoman’s and other officers. He stopped at the sight of a jefferie tube. It was so different. The change had been larger than thought.

_How?_

It stumped the doctor.

“What else is different about this ship?” McCoy asked, out loud. He sighed. “Check the shuttle craft before observing the Enterprise,” it was a habit of making some notes to himself as he turned away. Used to giving orders to officers who were inferior around him. Only he was ordering himself around.  “Hate to see if some of the phasers damaged it.”

* * *

After all the paperwork was done and read, Pike made his way down the hall heading in the direction of sick bay. Jim had came earlier telling him about the admiral and how stunning he was at his age. Jim and Pike had talked it out. Jim was still unable to wrap his head around it but in time he would be able. He came to a stop when he saw the older man in a bright, colorful outfit leaned against the wall with his arms folded. He was not in uniform. This had to be the admiral. Pike slowed his pace down coming toward the concerned admiral’s side.

“Admiral,” Pike said.

McCoy regarded the Pike as he leaned off the wall shifting to his side.

“Captain,” McCoy said. “Honor to meet ya.”

“Which admiral might you be?” Pike said.

“Cartwright,” McCoy said. “My friend is in there. Ambassador Selek.”

“I heard you’re leaving with the shuttle craft,” Pike said.

“That I am,” McCoy said.

“Let us return you to Earth,” Pike offered.

“Your offer is generous but I can’t accept,” McCoy said. “it’s classified."

“I make classified every day, Admiral,” Pike said. “You can share it with me.”

“Oh, ya see, I really can’t,” McCoy said. “Hands are tied.” he held his hands put side by side mimicking the binded gesture. “I am binded by the highest order when it comes to certain thin’s.”

“So it’s not the kind of classified I think it is,” Pike said.

McCoy nodded.

“Best no one knows,” McCoy said, linking his hands behind his back. “But I can tell ya that Ambassador Selek was on a mission and handed over to Klingons by a idiot,” he turned toward the closed doors with a heavy look about his face. “I am not happy about it nor is Star Fleet command.” Pike had been given the message in his cabin that the Vulcan was inside being operated before leaving to stretch his legs. Una had noted the doctor was bouncing last time that she had seen him. Lieutenant Spock was still unaware of the admiral and never crossed paths with him.  Pike had a inkling that the admiral wanted it to remain that way.

“Why did you come here with a shuttle?” Pike asked.

“It is a personal matter between him and I,” McCoy said. “I know him best.” McCoy had a fond expression as a memory crossed his mind.

Pike hesitated, considering it,  then nodded in return.

“You have been friends with him for a long time,” Pike said. “I never heard of this Ambassador Selek from the Diplomatic corps.”

“It’s a Section 31 individual,” McCoy said. “He retired before ya were born.”

“Vulcan’s don’t retire so young,” Pike said.

“This one did,” McCoy said. “Star Fleet deleted every trace of him after a mistake of his was brought up. No one talks about his historical standin’ because of that.”

“What did he do?” Pike asked.

“I rather not say,” McCoy said. “Don’t tell your first officer about this. No one is supposed to know.”

“Will do, Admiral,” Pike said.

“Good,” McCoy said. “just the way it should be.”

The doors opened and out came Doctor M’Benga. M’Benga’s uniform was covered in light green splotches. McCoy’s eyes looked panicked yet his demeanor was controlled. McCoy braced himself, internally, for what the dark man had to say. M’Benga rolled his sleeve up to his elbow.

“Admiral Cartwright,” M’Benga said. “Ambassador Selek, in his condition, requires rest.”

“I will make sure he gets that,” McCoy said.

“The surgery to repair and remove damaged tissue went smoothly,” M’Benga said. “I have logged his surgery and put it under classified per your requests. He will wake up sooner than later so I need someone he knows to lay back.” McCoy grew a soft, weathered smile. A fond one in fact. “We would like you to do that. A Vulcan his age won’t listen to medical professional reasoning.”

“They do become that way after thinkin’ they’re above us and all,” McCoy said, with a small smile. He bounced on the balls of his toes leaning forward then leaned himself back.  “I can do that.”

“If there is anything else I can do, you can tell me, Admiral,” Pike said.

“Are your  science officer and newest ensign in science in a relationship?” McCoy asked, point blank, shifted toward the captain.

“Yes,” Pike said.

“There is nothin’ ya can do except let us go back out into that shuttle and go on the next leg of our away mission,” McCoy said, then turned his attention on the young man. Pike stood there processing what he had just been told. What just happened? “when will he be open to visitors?”

“After my team finishes up with him,” M’Benga said.

“Can he walk?” McCoy asked.

“Given his state of being, he needs a days worth of rest,” M’Benga said.

“His spine was hit?” McCoy asked.

“No,” M’Benga said. “Maybe. I can’t say. I fixed that."

“How did ya fix a Vulcan’s spine?” McCoy asked.

“Selek is doing all the work that I couldn’t,” M’Benga said. “Unfortunately I can’t share _how_ I did it. He will be in private medical room 205.”

“Thank ya, Doctor,” McCoy said, then turned toward Pike. “Pardon me, I have somewhere to be.”

McCoy walked away from the two, M’Benga returned into the room to oversee the conclusion of the operation, and Pike seemed to be unable to wrap his head around what he had just answered and heard. Something screwy was going on and Pike didn’t like a bit of the weirdness going on around his ship.

* * *

Spock’s eyes opened while he sensed McCoy’s presence. Spock looked over to see the human was seated beside him with his arms folded fast asleep. McCoy lightly snored in his rest. He looked at peace and unhinged by time itself. Maybe it was just the way he felt asleep. McCoy was now in uniform of the era. Gray and white. He seemed quite at home in it. Like it was where he belonged at all. The three in uniform like it seemed more obvious that they would look aesthetically pleasing together.  Fitting a navy like appearance set in the future. McCoy’s eyes began to slide open. McCoy leaned forward placing his arms on to the side of the biobed.

The lights were off in the quarters. Intentional or not, it gave a rather calm and relaxed demeanor about the room. The stars outside reflected through the mirror cast a light over the doctor highlighting him in the darkness. The aesthetic looked on point and fitting for the well aged admiral. Spock could say it reminded him of a lazy scene in a action packed science fiction movie that was displaying a 21st century invasion on Earth. Because it did. McCoy had the smallest of a smile directed toward the Vulcan. It was as though there was moonlight on him rather than the starlight.

“Hello, sleepin’ beauty,” McCoy said.

“Greetings, ashayam,” Spock said.

“I’m lettin’ that pass because, one, we’re not physical,” McCoy said. “I don’t want to break ya heart.”

“Leonard,” Spock said. “I should apologize.”

“For scarin’ the livin’ shit out of me?” McCoy asked.

Spock shook his head.

“I should apologize for not informing you of what the link we shared was,” Spock said. “It was irresponsible. And illogical,” he shook his head, propping himself up toward the human. His hands were laid in his lap.  “It was motivated primarily by my emotions to protect you.”

“Well, it was some sort of link,” McCoy said.  It was weird not having it. The link in the back of his head. It was like a constant reminder of what he had allowed to happen and what he had a part of. A hand in for that matter.

“Jim, I, and you were T’hy’lara,” Spock said. McCoy’s eyes started to widen. He knew what the word it was derived off meant. T’hy’lara was plural for having more than one soulmate.  “that link you had. . . it was a expired marriage bond. For the last part of a century I have been shielding you from it as I believed you were not ready for it. As did Jim, he had concerns that you were aware of.”

“Oh,” McCoy said. “I think I see,” McCoy leaned back. “Ya knew about the appointments.”

“I considered it was none of my prying eyes to see,” Spock said. "Jim found out when he was looking at your file."

“Well, ya right,” McCoy said. “All that mind voodoo in space took it’s toll on me,” he stood up then came toward the window. “It’s taken me a lon’ time to become fully open with mind melds again.”

“I should apologize for that, as well,” Spock said.

“Ya don’t need to apologize, Spock,” McCoy said.

“For placing my katra into your mind when you were further into your recovery," Spock said. “I could have easily used what contact I had with the captain to deposit my katra as we were compatible. He would not have known initially but in time he would want to go to Vulcan for closure. Father would have informed him that he had my katra and sent us off to the ancient hall of thoughts. I did not anticipate our minds would go along so well that I sent you into holding. Almost be mistaken for losing your mind. Those are my regrets.”

McCoy rubbed his shoulders turning toward Spock.

“I regret that, too,” McCoy said. “Remember that first humanoid mind meld you had after the voyage home?”

“Of course,” Spock said. “I was ill-equipped.”

McCoy’s eyes were like daggers glaring off toward Spock as though ‘no, you were not’.

“Ya wanted no part of it,” McCoy said. “Ya remembered what happened as soon as your hands were on the psi-points while holdin' onto the man's wrist."

"It is considered invasive and criminal to attempt a mind meld with someone who is unwilling," Spock said, as a excuse. "Punishable by death," there was a long drawn out silence between the two elders. "the only times I have done that were for . . ." he paused, as memories crossed his mind, then continued, "logical reasons." yet the shame in his eyes spoke volumes.

"That was a part of my trigger . . Invadin' my mind. . .  ” McCoy gestured toward himself then lowered his hand. "I control how it affects me and it doesn't control me, _anymore_ ,” he walked around the bed. “I am just sorry that Jim had to see it. Know I had a problem back then.”

“We loved you regardless of your problem, Leonard,” Spock said, earning the turn of the doctor from the doorway.

McCoy paused.

“Is that why on those missions on the Enterprise A that ya and Jim were so insistent that one of ya take my place when it came to that?” McCoy was rubbing his chin.

Spock nodded.

“We did not wish for you to get hurt,” Spock said. “You had came so far. You did not deserve being kicked down to where you were before.”

It made sense why Kirk had put himself directly in the way. And Spock, himself, too when it came to the doctor’s safety by a telepathic based society. A part of the good admiral was touched. After all these years, Spock and Jim had always been considerate of him. Even after he stopped having the appointments. He lived his life, happily. That's what they wanted for him: to be happy. And the brief mind meld after who knows long knowing the time they had left together was valuable. McCoy brought over a unoccupied wheelchair to the side of the Vulcan’s bedside. His hand slid from the back of the wheelchair. McCoy sat down by the side of the elderly Vulcan on the biobed. He reconsidered his position on the issue.

“We are too old to dance around this subject,” McCoy said, holding his two fingers out with some strain. 

Spock moved himself onto the edge of the bed then looked up toward the human then took one good look to make sure it was real.

Spock tentatively returned the gesture.

* * *

“Jim,” Leonard said, taking the man by the shoulder. “Ya not goin' to  scare the livin’ shit out of a old man.”

Jim turned toward Leonard.

“There is something familiar about Cartwright,” Jim said.

“And I am apparently admiral of medicine,” Leonard said, sarcastically.

“No,” Jim said.

“He looks like no one we met in the academy,” Leonard said. “I am pretty sure he doesn’t come from Riverside.”

“He wanted to speak with Spock,” Jim said. “and you should have seen the look on his face when he first saw me.”

“So?’ Leonard asked, raising a small eyebrow. “Everyone likes to speak with him. Includin’ ya.”

“That’s different,” Jim said. “I am his boyfriend.”

“Three months into it ya probably goin’ to become his husband,” Leonard said.

“No,” Jim said. “we are taking it slow.”

“That’s news,” Leonard said. “how long?”

“A year,” Jim said. “if it doesn’t work it then it doesn’t work out.”

“Who says it is not goin’ to work out?” Leonard asked.

“T’Pau,” Jim said.

“Listen, infant,” Leonard said. “It will work out. Because if Spock dump’s ya,” a dark expression grew on his face. “I am goin’ to kill him.”

“I am going to make sure you don’t,” Jim said. “hell, I might become  a Librarian afterwards.”

“Ya don’t do well earth bound,” Leonard said. “I had to drag your ass out of several bars.”

“I was a cadet,” Jim said.

“What makes ya think ya can resist goin’ down the path you were originally goin’?” Leonard said, watching a glowing expression growing on Jim’s face. “What 'chya smilin’ about, Ensign?”

“You,” Jim said.

“Right," Leonard said, as it occurred to him.  "I would make sure ya didn’t make a mistake to regret."

“It would be hard for me to make a mistake with you on my ass,” Jim said.

Jim was right.

Leonard would follow the younger man where-ever he went.

Possibly throw away a promising career for the sake of making sure a friend stayed alive. He was more of a friend. But a ex-boyfriend. Someone he still loved deeply. After making sure Kirk was capable of  not going to a bar, Leonard would leave to be a doctor and find his friend one year later as a single dad. Jim never had a consistent father figure. Someone who molded him into who he was today without as much of a reckless background and problems with law enforcement. Leonard let go of the man’s shoulders. Jim was getting his act together day by day serving on the ship. Leonard watched the man go off down the corridor. Leonard turned away then made his path down toward the rec room. 

* * *

Jim came to the shuttle bay. He saw a a occupied wheelchair laid by a shuttle craft that looked different. It wasn’t like the worn and used shuttle crafts with large windows. He saw the design was the most unusual. He approached the shuttle. The back end was down. The window was on the front instead of being on both sides. How unusual. The occupant of the wheelchair stood up gripping onto the human’s wrist. 

“Admiral Cartwright?”

The two men turned their heads in the ensigns direction then shared a glance toward each other.

“Admiral,” Spock said.

“What do ya expect?” McCoy asked.

“We cannot reveal,” Spock said.

“Not intendin’ to do so, peaches,” McCoy said.

The two men shifted toward the human.

“Why did you want to speak with Mr Spock?” Jim asked.

“I wanted to forewarn him of somethin’ that he might live to regret,” McCoy said. Jim’s heart sank. “It was mission related, Ensign Kirk.

“It shall happen either way,” Spock added.

“I guess you’re right,”  Jim said.

“Of course I am right,” McCoy said. “we all regret thin’s when we lose them and get hurt by it,” he gestured the elder toward the bed on the side of the shuttle craft. Spock let go of the human’s hand. He turned his attention onto the human. “Listen,  your friend, Doctor McCoy, was supposed to have a lon’ and prosperous life. With the way thin’s are goin’. . . “

Jim grew concerned.

“What’s going on?” Jim asked. 

Serving on the Enterprise so soon. They were not deep into space. Leonard might catch Xenopolycythemia earlier than scheduled. And slowly die before his colleague’s eyes. Ten years, the cure would have been found. And Leonard would have been dead.  McCoy looked up toward the concerned young man. He wanted to give him the formula for the cure but the prime directive indicated that he could not. Perhaps they will find the flying colony earlier than expected and the events will---No, it wouldn’t. Leonard would stay with his rushed marriage.  And die there aboard the ship being cared for by a young woman. Spock and Kirk had emotional connections to him. They would have stayed behind a little longer and set everything into motion doing whatever they wanted. Captain’s orders prohibited lower ranked officers from disobeying those orders. That would have earned in their careers being dashed in a court martial.

“He might not be around in the next decade,”  McCoy said.

“What do you mean?” Jim approached the shuttle.

McCoy turned away then walked toward the front.

“Admiral Cartright--” The shield went up. “Admiral!”

The back end to the shuttle craft closed. McCoy started up the shuttle. He can feel the vulcan’s eyes on him. McCoy was silent not responding to the glare. The inside of the shuttle craft brightened. The shield to the shuttle bay began to phase away. Jim ran into the protective shielding to protect himself. He used the communications station attempting to contact the shuttle craft. McCoy turned off hailing. He had done Jim a favor by telling him.  Giving him a heads up. They had so little time to cherish his friend. The shuttle soared through the opening going into space.

“We will be there in twenty-four hours,” McCoy said. “If ya had the chance to warn Jim that something was going to happen to a friend of his. . .” he turned toward the Ambassador. Spock was laid on the edge of the bed. “would ya do it?”

“I would .  . .” Spock said. “but I would violate the prime directive in doing so.”

“So would Jim,” McCoy said. He looked down toward his hands. “I hate this.”

“Leonard,” Spock said. He came over toward the human placing his own hands into McCoy’s smaller, warmer hands. McCoy looked up. Spock looked at the man’s fading blue eyes. No longer bright as they used to be. Spock gave a squeeze. “they _shall_ find the cure.”

“Only after my death,” McCoy said. "Spock, ya need to rest."

“When you feel better,” Spock said.

“Ya doin’ great,” McCoy said.

“Computer,” Spock said. “play classical soothing music. A song that is lazy.”

The computer’s familiar sounds came and went. Spock went over to the bed then rested once laying down upon it. McCoy listened to the elder’s gentle snores. McCoy turned toward the console setting the course finishing the last touches. He stood up making his way toward the replicator. In blue light a cup of sweet tea appeared. He picked it up then sipped from it.  McCoy looked over toward Spock. In his minds eye, he can see his service with Kirk and Spock in black and white. If only Spock could read his mind. To see his thoughts of all these years. What a tale his thoughts would have told then. Like a action hero from a old time movie. McCoy sat down into the chair finishing off the glass. He watched the greatest love story unfold before his eyes and made sure it grew old. He did well.

* * *

“Shuttle craft has requested a medical team attend to shuttle bay,” Jolene and Annabella turned from the view screen. “Admiral McCoy claims that his energy will have run out by the time he is on the ship.”

“Number one, you have the conn,” Jolene said, earning a nod from the first officer. “Inform sick bay to have a team down there for the shuttle craft.”

Jolene made her way toward the turbo lift. The scene panned over to the shuttle bay. The shuttle craft landed.  A medical team was on site. Spock awoke from his long slumber then used the bed as his support to get up. McCoy slowly shut down the craft option by option. Spock looked over toward the human. McCoy sighed pressing his back against it.

“We had a good run,” McCoy said. He looked over toward the elderly Vulcan.

“We did,” Spock said. “Seeing the captain reminded me how young  I used to be.”

McCoy had a loud, audible sigh.

“Spock,” McCoy said. “do me a favor and spend your retirement somewhere that won’t kill ya.”

“You act as though that’s a third chance in life,” Spock said. “I have been to places that no one have gone before. The things we saw, the anomalies we saw---planet side, aboard the Enterprise, a---I have experienced my fair share of joy.”

“You never gone as a civilian,” McCoy said.

Spock paused.

“I am afraid that you are right,” Spock said.

McCoy nodded, standing up from the chair.

“Of course,” McCoy said, coming over toward Spock. “Ya know what’s funny?”

“Enlighten me,” Spock said.

“We never saw your counterpart,” McCoy said.

“Perhaps it was for the best,” Spock said. “I was quite young and unsure of myself. I am pleased that Jim is there to help him through it.”

“So am I,” McCoy said. “old man.”

Spock raised an eyebrow back.

“You are older than I,” Spock reminded. “Old friend.”

McCoy grew a warm, small smile in return

“Sometimes, ya ama---ah never mind,” McCoy said, then began to head toward the doors. . Spock raised a grayed eyebrow in return getting up from the bed. Spock followed after the elder. He stopped by McCoy’s side. McCoy’s hands feeling around for the panel that he had used earlier.

“What is it that you were going to say?” Spock asked.

“Sometimes, ya make amen out of corn,” McCoy said.

“Leonard, that is not what you were going to say,” Spock said. 

McCoy looked in bemusement toward the Vulcan.

“What?” McCoy asked. “Scared that I could just about fall and die on ya?"

“Yes,” Spock said.

“Sometimes . . . ya amaze me,” McCoy said. “Ya do thin’s I least expect.”

“As do  I,” Spock agreed.

“Ya fell right into my trap,” McCoy said, finger gunning at Spock with a smirk. “Jim said that’s what ya said in his nightmare.”

McCoy pressed a button on the panel.

The back door slowly began to open. Spock observed at the gesture that McCoy’s two hands remained. A green blush grew on Spock’s grayed-green face. Spock returned the gesture  with his fingers touching the doctor’s. A blush grew on McCoy’s face. Spock linked his hands behind his back and softly urged the doctor to go on. McCoy looked away then back with a incredulous expression then walked down the ramp. McCoy shook his head. Spock followed behind McCoy. Spock had a watchful eye on the doctor. They came around the shuttle craft where a medical team awaited for him with a gurney. McCoy began to fall to the floor. Spock gently caught McCoy into his arms. Next Spock knew the gurney was there and he laid the doctor down onto it. The tellarite medical officer scanned McCoy then made a order to Andorian nurse. The Andorian nurse applied a hypospray to the side of the doctor’s neck. Jolene watched the crew leave them.

“How long were you in the other side of the anomaly?” Jolene asked.

“A month,” Spock said. “the doctor  was in the other side of the anomaly for a day. Or so I believe.”

“Temporal Investigators will want to fully of your experience in there,” Jolene said. 

“I understand, captain,” Spock said.

“I will see what I can do about the investigators asking you so soon after . . .” Jolene stopped. “Admiral McCoy wants you to be there when he passes.”

“I will be on my way, captain,” Spock said. “What type of ship is this?”

“Constitution class, refit,” Jolene said. “We call her Scotty.”

“Quite a logical nickname,” Spock said. “Mr  Scott always loved the Enterprise.”

“I have heard from those who knew him best that he would love how she is treated,” Jolene said.

“What they say must be true as not everyone gets to be the captain of a ship named after a Scotsman,”  Spock said.

Jolene had a small nodded then turned away and made her way out of shuttle bay.

Spock followed suit.

* * *

McCoy’s eyes eyes slowly opened. There was bright lighting around him. He can see familiar faces around him. The scenery around him was a shade of gray. The design of the walls comforted the man. Never did he think that he would die aboard a sister of the Enterprise. In space, he had. Lewis was by his side  McCoy saw generations of McCoy’s surrounding him. He can easily hear his mother’s voice, _I knew you’ll make a fine doctor, Lenny._ And he had.

McCoy smiled back.

“Hey, grandfather,” Lewis said. “Happy to be home again?”

“Better safe than sorry,” McCoy said, weakly.

“So are we,” Lewis said.  Elizabeth came to his side. “Guess what we found what we found out while you were away.”

“The world is never goin’ to end,” McCoy said.

“No,” Lewis said.

“It doesn’t mean much to you but it will mean a lot to people on New Cardassia,” Elizabeth said. “some Cardassians fell with a illness that you faced in your historic five year mission.”

“There’s a lot that I couldn’t cure,” McCoy said.

“Lewis named the cure after you,” Elizabeth said.

“It was a family effort,” Lewis added.

“Ya haven’t changed tracks?“ McCoy asked, observing the science uniform.

“I find myself at home,” Lewis said.

“He is not leaving anytime soon,” Elizabeth said. “I will make sure of that.”

“Good,” McCoy said, with a pleased smile. McCoy felt more at home and comfortable on his death bed. Spock was standing at the corner of the doorway. “Ambassador, ya got a part of your soul to collect.”

"It slipped my mind," Spock said.

The sea of McCoy’s stepped back allowing a path toward him. McCoy never felt so resolved, content, and ready to go than today. No. Spock came to the side of his bed then applied his fingers to the side of his face. My mind to your mind, my thoughts to your thoughts mentally chanted though the meld. The link between them was established. McCoy felt a part of him leave. A piece that had been a part of his foot was no longer there. Under his foot that had been sticking out for some time. Peace overtook the human. McCoy felt something strange happen in his soul. The connection to his earthly body gained another tendril to another. It was as though he were being moved from one location to the next yet he was still in his body. Spock let go of the human’s face then stepped aside.

McCoy offered a small, "Thank ya."

“You are welcome, Doctor McCoy,” Spock said.

“I will see ya later, Mister Spock,”  McCoy said, reaching out with what strength he had in his hand. He took the Ambassador’s free hand and clenched it. Spock experienced gratitude. It was brief,  just as the hand clench, and then it was gone. Spock stepped way as the doctor’s eyes looked over toward Donna’s grandchildren. McCoy observed his family for one last time. His eyes trailing over their faces one by one----

And then he was free, flying, into darkness. It was disorienting.  Unable to determine which direction he was going. There was no bright light as everyone said. There was no visual of his entire life while feeling engulfed by dotting love. Age no longer lagged him. His legs, hands, and arms were not weighted down by arthritis. Arthritis that he had personally with medication. He had gone the full nine yards for Spock.  McCoy closed his eyes expecting for a painful landing. Instead, nothing happened.

 _We go together, or not at all_ came Spock’s familiar voice.

McCoy noticed that he was on a beach in his old star fleet uniform. Children passed through him running toward the shore.  He was in the 2260′s uniform. New blue surgical outfit that blended well resembling his science uniform. It was the variation that wasn’t as baggy as the first surgical outfit aboard the Enterprise. The pants still ended the same way they did just as they did before. He looked down to see the elder was in a lawn chair drinking from a straw wearing a colorful hat and dark sunglasses. McCoy saw there were two distant planets. The beach was dotted with several individuals ranging in species.

“I like your choice,” McCoy said, with a bounce.

“Being a civilian is different from being a Ambassador,” Spock said. “you were right.” McCoy smiled down on the Ambassador with linked hands. It was odd, standing here and no one seeing him. No longer physical to the world of the living. McCoy sat down alongside Spock and enjoyed the weather. The wind didn’t blow against his face as it used to but as he focused he can distinctively feel his  hair bangs brushing against his forehead from the warm, cool wind.

“Not a bad way to spend a afterlife,” McCoy said.

“Indeed, Leonard,” Spock said, as a wide smile grew on his face. “Indeed.”

**The End.**


End file.
